


Two Wrongs Make A Right

by Miko



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-11
Updated: 2009-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 08:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/223275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko/pseuds/Miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you have to do the wrong thing to get the right result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Wrongs Make A Right

Years ago, the midway had rung with the sounds of circus music and children's laughter. The wind blowing through it had carried scents of hot popcorn and cotton candy, and it had been crowded with people.

Now the only sounds were the echo of gunfire and the laughter of a monster, and it smelled of rot and blood. At least the lack of people meant there wasn't anyone for Death the Kid to dodge as he soared along on his skateboard, chasing the pre-kishin they'd come to kill.

Finding it had been easy enough. Actually _hitting_ it was another matter. It skittered along ahead of them, moving far faster than anything that had once been human had a right to. Worse, it was _taunting_ him, the bastard. It laughed every time it dodged his shots, occasionally turning and smirking back over its shoulder at him. Kid growled and fired again, but it was useless.

{We need to pin it down,} Liz said, sounding just as frustrated as Kid felt. {We're never going to get anywhere at this rate.}

{I'm getting tired of being 'it',} Patty agreed, and Kid could see her pout in the reflection off the barrel of her gun.

"If you have any suggestions on how to accomplish that, I'm willing to entertain them," Kid said, then cursed as the pre-kishin turned a corner abruptly and vanished.

They flew around the same corner a moment later and nearly smashed straight into a solid wooden wall. Kid yelped and reflexively kicked down on the back of his skateboard, grabbing at the front as it rose to pull it higher still. He did a complete flip in the air, passing close enough to the wall that he felt the rough wood catch at his clothes. He landed on his feet with the board tucked under his arm.

{Whee, that was fun! Do it again!} Patti cheered.

"No time," Kid replied grimly. "It's getting further ahead with every moment that goes by." He dismissed the board and stepped forward, opening the door cautiously lest the killer be waiting in ambush. Nothing attacked as he walked inside, but Kid didn't let his guard down for a moment.

He hadn't taken two paces inside when he realized what the building had been. The sign outside had long since rotted away, but the array of mirrors before him could belong to only one place in the circus.

{Yay, the fun house!}

{Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll get lost in the maze.}

"Let's hope, Kid agreed. Taking a deep breath, he double-checked his hold on the twin pistols, then walked into the maze.

Immediately he was confronted by several versions of his own reflection. Many of the mirrors had shattered or turned dark with age, but there were more than enough left in one piece. Some were curved or warped, skewing his reflection and distorting the symmetry. Kid paused in front of one that magnified his head out of all proportion to his body. The asymmetry created by the damned white stripes in his hair was even more blatant than usual in that image. He shuddered, feeling vaguely nauseated.

{Forget about your reflection. Just worry about the pre-kishin,} Liz reminded him sharply.

"I haven't forgotten," Kid replied loftily, though in truth he had been distracted for a moment. He berated himself silently as he proceeded. It was unacceptable for him to let his wits wander on the job. The fact that it happened so often only made the transgression all the worse. He was Shinigami's son, and was supposed to be setting an example for others.

He caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Kid spun and fired at the same time, strafing the whole area. Glass shattered and flew everywhere, and he was forced to duck to avoid being cut.

{Kid! What are you doing?} Liz said, sounding panicked. {Don't you know it's seven years of bad luck if you break a mirror? You just broke, like, five of them!}

The monster laughed again, a high-pitched cackle that set Kid's teeth on edge. Kid caught another glimpse of it scurrying away, but this time the image was warped so he knew it was only a reflection.

Smirking, Kid headed for that mirror at a trot. The pre-kishin had made a tactical error in its choice of hiding place. Mirrors were integral to many of Kid's powers as a shinigami, and he understood how they worked better than most people understood why the sun rose and set.

If he'd seen the reflection of the monster while standing over _there_ , then he'd been at a thirty-two degree angle to the mirror. The pre-kishin would therefore have to have been precisely thirty-two degrees on the opposite side of the mirror. Kid looked that way, and found himself facing another mirror. Very well, that mirror was twenty-seven degrees angled from this one, so...

He followed the trail of mirrors rapidly. Every so often he would catch another glimpse of the monster, and start his calculations anew. As he drew closer the glimpses became more frequent, until Kid could see multiple images of it at all times.

When the reflections he saw were arranged just _so_ , Kid lifted Patti and Liz and opened fire. Once again the mirrors were blown to pieces, but this time instead of laughing the pre-kishin screeched in pain. Kid had shot it right through the mirrors.

{Nice,} Liz said in reluctant admiration, and Kid allowed himself to preen a bit.

{That's our Kid,} Patti agreed, snickering. {Go get 'em!}

He fired again, but without the mirrors to hide the shot the monster saw it coming and dodged. It turned another corner, but Kid didn't need to trace the reflections to follow it this time. There was a trail of dark blood splattered all over the floor, marking the killer's path clearly.

{Oh, crap, there's the exit,} Liz exclaimed as Kid ran around another twist and a red sign came into view. Kid quickly calculated the real position of the doorway and opened fire, and was rewarded with another squeal from the pre-kishin.

Kid ducked through the frames of the mirrors he'd just shattered, careful not to slice himself open on the jagged shards that remained. Being able to take the direct path was much faster, and he smiled fiercely as he saw the pre-kishin limp into another room down a short hall. Its injuries were slowing it down. Now it was only a matter of time.

{Quick, quick,} Patti said, and Kid could sense her doing the mental equivalent of bouncing up and down. {After it, before it gets away!}

Kid plunged into the next room hot on the heels of the monster, and promptly tripped. He staggered, flailing wildly to catch his balance, and cursed as the monster made it out of the room through the next door. Warily Kid checked the floor, expecting to find it littered with traps of some kind, but he was baffled to discover it was perfectly smooth.

Well, never mind. He looked up and started to move forward, and nearly tripped again. It took his horrified brain a moment to acknowledge what he was seeing. The whole room was _skewed_. The walls and ceiling were angled and painted to look as if the room was built on a ramp. Worse, the table, the chairs, even things like the fake fruit in a bowl were all out of proportion in such a way that they fostered the optical illusion. He'd tripped because he'd automatically tried to compensate for an incline that wasn't there.

But the _room_! Kid felt nausea and panic rising as he took one shaky step forward, and then another. It was _wrong_ , the whole room and everything in it was just _wrong_. How could anyone deliberately create such a terrible place? And to call it 'fun'! It was disgusting and perverted.

{Uh-oh,} Patti said, subdued.

{Here we go again,} Liz sighed. {Hang in there, Kid. Look, it's such a tiny room. Just a few more steps and you'll be out, and you'll never have to see it again.}

{See? Almost halfway,} Patti chirped helpfully.

Kid glanced back to assess his progress, and that was even _worse_. The optical illusion didn't work when he wasn't looking at the objects from the right perspective. Instead of seeming to rest on a decline, the things nearest him simply looked warped.

Bile rose in his throat to choke him, and he nearly lost his lunch. Coughing, Kid staggered. That just made him trip again, his hindbrain still trying to compensate for an angle that wasn't there.

He hit his knees hard and stayed there, gasping. "It's _horrid_ ," he moaned, clutching at his head. If only he could drag the image from his brain by sheer force of will. "It's awful, I can't bear it... that a place like this should exist in the world..." He shuddered. "Such a world isn't worth living in!"

Distantly he heard Liz and Patti talking to him, the tone of their voices alternately coaxing and exasperated. The words couldn't penetrate the haze of despair that enveloped him. He'd dropped them both when he went down, and they lay forgotten before him on the floor. Hands over his eyes, he rocked back and forth and tried to purge the terrible image from his mind.

{Kid! Kid, look out! Patti, _NO!_ }

Something warm sprayed across his hands and face, jolting him back to awareness of his surroundings. The distinctive coppery scent of blood filled the air, and a limp body tumbled into his lap a moment later. Kid caught it reflexively, and to his shock realized it was Patti. Her shirt was torn and a long, deep gash across her chest and stomach was bleeding freely.

{Behind you!} Liz shrieked.

Kid didn't take the precious seconds required to look up. He grabbed Patti and rolled before Liz even got the second word out, and that was the only thing that saved them both. A huge, razor-sharp piece of glass cut through the air right where they had been, and broke further when it impacted the floor.

There was still more than enough left to make a deadly weapon for the pre-kishin, however. It laughed and slashed at him repeatedly, and it was all Kid could do to keep himself and Patti out of its reach.

Every time he dodged, Patti whimpered faintly and turned a little paler, and a fresh spurt of blood would run over Kid's hands. He had to do something to stop the bleeding, quickly - but first he had to get the pre-kishin to stop attacking him for a moment. Kid scanned the room frantically, looking for something to distract the killer with, but it was impossible for him to focus on anything except how warped the room was.

{Kid! Over here,} Liz cried from where she still lay abandoned on the floor. {Just shoot it! It can't dodge, it's too injured.}

"Shoot it? With just you?" The thought made Kid grimace in revulsion. "I can't use just one of you. You know that! It's not..."

Liz cut him off with a scream, reverting to her human form and snatching up the nearest object, which happened to be a chair. She smashed the pre-kishin over the head with it. The rotten wood broke on impact, but it was enough to stagger the monster for a critical moment.

"Take care of Patti," Kid ordered, setting her down gently and lunging at the pre-kishin. He was at a disadvantage without his weapons, but unlike most meisters he was far from helpless when unarmed.

Fear for Patti and rage that the monster had _dared_ to hurt her gave Kid even greater strength than usual. Two swift strikes left the pre-kishin sprawled helpless on the floor, and a third finished it off. The reddish glow of the killer's soul gave a hellish look to the room, but Kid ignored it for the moment.

"Patti?" he asked anxiously, turning back to the sisters now that the pre-kishin was taken care of.

The first flung object caught him by surprise. The chunk of wood struck him full across the face. If it hadn't been so rotten, it might have broken his nose. Shocked, Kid ducked, and the second piece missed him by inches. "Liz!" he exclaimed. "What are you _doing_?"

She was standing over her sister, her fists clenched and tears streaking her face, glaring at him. "How could you?" she demanded, choking on a sob. "How _could_ you? Patti is bleeding in your arms, and you won't use me to deal with the threat because it wouldn't be _symmetrical_? Do we mean that much less to you than your precious symmetry?"

"What?" Kid stared at her, not understanding what she was saying. "No, of course n-"

"We've never said a word about you barging in to organize our rooms as well as yours," she overrode him, her voice rising hysterically. "We never once complained about you making us late for class _every day_ so you can check every inch of the house, or losing a pre-kishin while you admired the scenery, or even the times you've _abandoned us_ to go haring off back to Death City to check on some stupid detail you _might_ have forgotten about. But this time you've gone too far! You risked Patti's _life_!"

"No, it's not like that," Kid protested, taking a step back and raising his hands as if that would protect him from her rant. "You don't understand. Liz, of course you and Patti are important to me. But I'm Shinigami's son, I have to set an example. I have to do things _right_."

"Death the Kid, if my sister _dies_ because of your _stupid_ obsession with symmetry, I will _never forgive you_!" Liz shrieked. She turned away from him, and her shoulders shook with the sobs he could faintly hear as she knelt next to Patti. Gently she scooped her sister up and cradled the unconscious girl against her chest.

Dazed, Kid stood rooted to the spot, staring at her. "D-dies?" he stammered, floored. "But... but she can't..." Patti couldn't die. That was just... not allowed. That was even more wrong than the existence of this room. It couldn't happen, that was all there was to it.

Yet there she was, pale and limp in Liz's arms, blood already soaking through the makeshift bandage Liz had constructed from their white jackets. Her soul was flickering weakly, like a candle on the verge of going out. Her blood covered Kid's hands and jacket, sticky and undeniable.

Belatedly he realized that Liz was struggling. Patti was small for her age, but she was heavier than she looked. "Let me," Kid started, moving forward to take her from Liz.

She levelled a vicious glare at him, and he froze with his hands outstretched before him. "Don't. Touch. Her," she hissed, more furious than Kid could remember ever seeing her before. "Just get us back to Death City. _After_ she's been treated and is healing, I'll think about talking to you again."

There was nothing Kid could do but agree with her. He nodded, and bit his lip as she turned and stalked out of the room. He followed her, trying to figure out how he could possibly make her understand why he'd _had_ to do what he did. His life would be so much easier if other people would just acknowledge how vitally important symmetry was to the correct way of doing things.

Except, looking at Patti now, Kid didn't feel nearly as smugly righteous as usual.

* * *

Liz obviously hadn't forgiven him by the time they reached Death City; she snarled and chased him right out of the examining room the moment Patti was handed over to a doctor's care. Kid spent a very long night lying in his bed staring up at the perfectly symmetrical tiles of his ceiling, unable to sleep. His mind refused to accept the idea that Patti could _die_ , that he might lose _both_ his partners because of this one mission. His heart, however, felt the terror of the possibility all too keenly.

To his extreme relief when he checked in the mirror the next morning he saw Patti awake and smiling at Liz, who was sitting by her bedside holding her hand. Patti still looked extremely pale and wan, but it was a vast improvement over the way she'd looked when he'd last seen her.

Determined to make it up to the sisters and show them that they _were_ important to him, Kid spent the whole morning scouring the stock of every florist in Death City, searching for the components of the perfect get-well-soon bouquet. It ended up being much smaller than he'd hoped for, but there was a distressing lack of perfectly symmetrical flowers in the city. He certainly couldn't give her something that was _flawed_. What kind of message would that send?

It felt like his heart was pounding in his throat as he approached the room Patti had been given in the infirmary. He had to remind himself repeatedly not to clutch at the flowers or wring the stems, lest he damage or twist them. The door was open, and Kid could hear the sisters talking softly as he came close.

"...n't be mad, Liz," Patti said, sounding unusually weak and subdued. "Kid can't help it."

Startled to hear his own name, Kid paused with his hand raised to knock on the door. He hadn't _intended_ to eavesdrop, but they continued talking before he could decide whether to enter or come back later when they weren't discussing him.

"I know, I know. I shouldn't have said that to him. I just... argh! He makes me so mad sometimes."

"Hehehe-OW."

"Don't giggle like that, then."

"But your face was funny!"

"I swear he's getting worse, Patti." Liz sounded like she was on the verge of tears again. Kid couldn't have moved now if his life had depended on it. Worse? What did she mean, worse?

"A year ago if one of us had been _hurt_ like that, I'm pretty sure it would have been enough to jerk him out of his little perfectionist world," she continued. "But it was like he couldn't even conceive of the idea of doing something that wasn't 'right'."

"Mm."

"And I don't think something as mild as that funhouse room would have crushed him like that when we first met him. How long until seeing _anything_ unsymmetrical drops him in his tracks? How long until he refuses to even leave the house?"

"Mm."

"He doesn't even respond to us trying to coax him out of it half the time anymore. I don't know what to do, Patti. What if... what if he starts to think _we're_ flawed because we can't live up to his perfect standards?" Her voice dropped to a whisper that Kid had to strain to hear. "What if he doesn't want us anymore?"

"No! Never," Patti cried. "Kid wouldn't leave us!" She paused, then added in a tiny voice, "Would he?"

Kid wanted to charge into the room and assure her that he would never do any such thing, but it felt like he was literally frozen in place. His whole body was ice cold, and his throat was too tight for words to get past.

"I don't know any more, Patti. I just don't know." Liz sighed miserably. "If he keeps getting worse at this rate, it may not matter. Eventually one or more of us is going to get killed when he has one of his fits."

"Mm."

"Oh, geez, listen to me go on when you're tired and hurting." There was a rustle of fabric and the scrape of a chair across the floor. "Look, you just worry about getting better, and let me worry about Kid for now. We'll figure something out. I'm going to see if I can find some water or something for us to drink."

Realizing she was heading for the door, Kid's brain shut down and he panicked. He couldn't let her find him listening to their private conversation. He bolted for the exit, practically flying as he raced down the hall. Only when he was outside the building did he notice that his hands were empty. At some point he'd dropped the perfect flowers he'd worked so hard to find. The gods alone knew what Liz would think when she saw them.

Kid walked home in a daze, hardly knowing what to think about what he'd overheard. He wasn't getting 'worse', he was getting _better_ \- better at doing things right, better at coming close to the perfection he needed to live up to his honoured father's name.

Wasn't he?

Other people just didn't understand. His honoured father did, Kid was certain. Just look at the perfect symmetry of Shibusen itself. Didn't that mean Kid was in the right, just as he'd always believed - no, just as he'd always _known_?

And yet, he couldn't argue with the fact that Patti had nearly died because he had been so distracted by the horrifying wrongness of that twisted room. Perhaps - just perhaps - Kid needed to learn to be more tolerant of imperfection. Clearly, other people were never going to understand the incredible importance of symmetry. The world would continue to be full of places and objects that Kid found repellently wrong, and there was nothing he could do about it. Acknowledging the foulness of the situation was one thing, but allowing it to distract him to the point that it affected his performance was hardly approaching perfection on his part.

What about asymmetry in his own actions, though? The idea of fighting with just one of the sisters in hand was so completely _wrong_ , on such a deep level that Kid couldn't begin to articulate the reasons behind it. He'd been able to take care of the pre-kishin without needing to use Liz by herself - but what if he hadn't? What if the extra seconds it had taken him had been long enough for Patti to bleed out?

Was Liz right that symmetry was more important to him than their lives?

"NO," Kid exclaimed, shaking his head hard. That was one statement he could make with absolute certainty. Order and symmetry were vital, even necessary, for the world to function - but _he_ couldn't function without his partners.

Looking up, Kid realized he was standing in the main hall of his own house with no idea how he'd gotten there. The beautiful symmetry of the architecture, decorations, and furnishings soothed his agitated mind, but for once it wasn't enough to calm him completely. It only served as a reminder of Liz's harsh words about his 'obsessions'.

Clearly, he needed to do something to correct his imperfections. If that paradoxically meant that he needed to allow himself to occasionally exhibit flawed behaviour - well, for Liz and Patti he would manage it somehow. What he needed to do now was to raise his tolerance for such things.

Taking a deep breath, Kid squared his shoulders and strode forward into the living room where he and the sisters spent most of their time. It was just as perfectly arranged as the rest of the house, of course, but his first impulse on entering was to double-check and measure to make certain that everything was still exactly as it should be. The candles had a stubborn tendency not to melt in perfect symmetry unless he sculpted them, and there was always the _possibility_ that one of the pictures had shifted a millimetre or two and was no longer hanging perfectly straight.

Instead of going over everything carefully, however, Kid forced himself to march right up to the largest of the decorations, a lovely abstract black and white painting that his father had given him for his last birthday. Without allowing himself to think too hard about what he was doing, Kid reached out and shoved at one corner of the frame, tipping the picture noticeably to one side.

Horror struck him an instant later. Wrong, it was _wrong_ , there was something _**wrong**_ in his house. It had to be fixed. NOW. Before, gods forbid, anyone _saw_ it and realized what a disgusting, depraved person he had to be. In a total panic Kid righted the picture, then pulled out his measuring tape to make certain it was level.

He paused with the tape halfway to the picture, breathing hard and staring at the frame in shock. Had he really just done that? He'd intended to walk away and leave the tilted picture, forcing himself to ignore it. But he literally hadn't been able to stop himself from fixing it.

Swallowing hard, he shoved the measuring tape back into his pocket. With a shaking hand he reached out to the picture frame once again, and rested his fingers against it. He willed himself to push it, but the memory of the sickening feeling of something _wrong_ ate at him and kept his hand from moving. At the same time the need to measure it and _check_ that it was hanging straight was growing rapidly, tearing away at his good intentions. He'd moved it; even that was more than he'd ever done before. Surely that was enough for one day? He could check it now, and tomorrow come back and do it again. That would be all right, wouldn't it?

But he knew it wouldn't be any easier tomorrow. In fact, the only thing that would be easier was justifying to himself why he didn't have to do it. Screwing his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to see it, Kid pushed at the frame and immediately stepped back out of reach.

Even with his eyes closed, he _knew_ it was wrong. He could feel it in his gut, a twisting sense of nausea that threatened to make him lose his breakfast. It was _wrong_ , he _had_ to fix it. He had to. How could he allow such a thing to exist in his _own house_? Only a completely despicable person would be able to tolerate such disorder!

Whimpering, Kid clutched at his head and forced himself to stay where he was. "You can do this," he muttered to himself, his voice cracking and wavering. "You can do this, you _can_. You _have_ to. For Liz and Patti."

_"How could you?"_

_"This time you've gone too far!"_

_"Death the Kid, if my sister_ dies _because of your_ stupid _obsession with symmetry, I will_ never forgive you _!"_

The echo of Liz's voice gave him the strength he needed to turn his back on the painting. The memory of Patti's body lying broken and bleeding in his arms was enough to let him walk slowly out of the room. Only when he'd turned a corner and knew he wouldn't be able to see the painting did he open his eyes again, and even so he kept his gaze fixed firmly forward.

He'd successfully left it so the picture was wrong. Now Kid needed to find something to distract himself with, so he wouldn't have to keep thinking about the fact that the picture was _wrong_. There was nobody here but him, nobody to see, so it didn't matter that the _picture_ was _wrong_. When Liz came back, she would have to understand how much she and Patti meant to him, because _the picture was wrong._ All he had to do was leave it until then and they would both forgive him, and it wouldn't matter that _**the picture was wrong**_...

With an anguished cry Kid turned on his heel and sprinted back into the room. He lunged for the picture, choking on bile as he frantically scrabbled at the frame. For a horrible moment his fingers slipped and it refused to budge, and he had a terrifying thought that maybe it was _stuck_ that way. _Forever_.

Then he managed to get a firm grip on it and it moved easily back into place. Sobbing with relief, Kid leaned his head against the cool glass and just let himself shake. It was okay, everything was alright again. It was all _right_ again.

After a long moment he looked up and stared at his reflection in the glass. It was hardly the best mirror he'd ever used, but he could tell he was pale and his pupils were far too large. He looked like he was on drugs, or in shock.

He'd gotten as far as the bottom of the stairs, he told himself grimly. Next time, he would get at least as far as the second floor. Then he would get as far as his bedroom. He would do it over and over again, as many times as necessary, until he could actually leave it that way for a significant length of time and not think about it.

It was the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life, but Death the Kid reached out and pushed the picture out of alignment once more.

* * *

Liz couldn't remember ever feeling so drained and exhausted. She'd spent the whole night sitting by Patti's bedside, fretting over her unconscious sister and feeling alternately guilty and exasperated about Kid. In the small hours of the morning she'd cried herself hoarse, terrified that she was going to lose both of the most important people in her life.

With the first rays of dawn hope had returned, when Patti opened her eyes and groggily asked why Liz was crying. The doctors were optimistic that she would make a full recovery. Patti was going to be fine, and Liz wouldn't have to find out what it would be like to live without her sister.

As for Kid... Liz glanced down at the slightly squashed and wilted bunch of flowers in her hand, and shook her head. She still had no idea what to do about Kid, but she did know what the first step towards a solution had to be. An apology for her harsh words the day before.

"Kid?" she called as she entered the house. "I'm home."

There was no clear response, but straining her ears, she thought she heard the sound of someone talking in the living room. It had to be Kid; none of their friends ever came here after the first visit, because of the way Kid hovered over people to ensure that they didn't move anything even a fraction of a centimetre out of place.

Poking her head into the room, Liz found him standing in front of the biggest picture, his hands clenched on the mantle below it. His head was down and he was muttering to himself. "Walk away. Just walk away. Just turn around, and walk away!"

"What are you doing?" she asked, completely baffled. This was weird behaviour even for him.

He jumped and whirled as if she'd startled him. She was shocked to see that he was in a state of complete disarray. His hair was mussed as if he'd been clenching his hands in it, white-striped and all-black spikes going every which way instead of lying in the symmetrical style he preferred. His eyes were wide and his expression was wild, and he was breathing hard. He looked like he was ready to fly right out of his skin from sheer nerves.

He said nothing for a long moment, just stood there staring at her like a deer in headlights, so finally she broke the silence. "Listen, Kid. About what I said yester..."

" _NO_ ," he blurted out, waving his hands frantically. His voice was about an octave higher than usual, and cracked as if he was under a tremendous amount of strain. "No, don't look, you can't look, it's horrible, you can't see it nobody can see..."

Without any warning his golden eyes rolled up into his head, and he collapsed.

"Kid!" Liz dove forward and barely managed to catch him before he bashed his brains out on the edge of the mantle. They went down in a heap, with Kid sprawled over her lap and in her arms. He was out cold, she realized in astonishment. His eyes flickered beneath the lids and he was twitching faintly, but he showed no signs of waking.

"What on earth?" Stunned, Liz felt his forehead to see if he was feverish. His skin was clammy and pale, and she could see he'd been sweating hard. That was all they needed, Kid ending up in the hospital right next to Patti. But he'd been fine last night when they'd returned to Death City, and he wasn't overheated now.

Baffled, she glanced around the room to see what could have caused such a reaction. Her eyes quickly settled on the picture he'd been standing in front of. It was _tilted_ , visibly hanging off centre even to her eyes. To Kid, who could instantly tell if something had been moved out of place by even a millimetre, it must have looked absolutely horrible. She had no idea what could have caused the picture to shift like that, but she knew she didn't need to look any further for the cause of Kid's hysteria.

" _Honestly_ ," she muttered, getting angry at him all over again. "It's just a stupid picture, not the end of the world!" It was exactly what she'd been afraid of, that he would continue to get worse until even small things could incapacitate him completely.

"I suppose I'd better fix it if I want him coherent when he wakes up," she decided, sighing in irritation. She wasn't terribly gentle when she dumped him off her lap onto the floor. Standing, she reached for the picture frame to straighten it. Without a measuring tape she wouldn't be able to make it perfect, but hopefully it would be enough that he wouldn't just collapse again the moment he opened his eyes.

"Leave it."

It was Liz's turn to jump. She looked over her shoulder, wondering if she was hearing things. Kid had propped himself up on one hand and was looking up at her through one eye. The other was covered by his hand, which was clutching at his hair as if he was trying to keep himself from flying to pieces. He was shaking and his voice was hardly more than a croak, but his expression was grimly determined.

"Excuse me?" she said, certain she'd misunderstood. Death the Kid would never stop someone from making something symmetrical. It was like asking the sun to rise in the west.

"Leave it where it is," he repeated. "Don't touch it."

"But... but..." Liz stammered, completely floored. "Don't tell me _you_ moved it like this!" That was even more incomprehensible than the idea of him not allowing her to fix it.

"You and Patti _are_ more important to me than symmetry," he said. He closed his eyes, and hunched in on himself. "I can't let either of you be hurt because of me again. I _have_ to learn to tolerate it. No matter how wrong it is."

"Kid..." Liz trailed off, having no idea what to say. She felt horribly guilty for the uncharitable thoughts she'd just been having about him. She knew better than anyone but Patti how hard it would have been for him to do something like this.

Impulsively she knelt beside him and pulled him into a tight hug. He made a startled noise and went rigid, but didn't fight her hold. After a moment she felt his arms tentatively wind around her in return, and he rested his head on her shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered into his hair. "And I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. I was just so scared."

"You weren't wrong," he replied, almost as softly. "Not about all of it, anyway. It _was_ my fault. So I'm going to do something about it. Even if it kills me." He pulled back enough to glare balefully at the painting, but winced and looked away almost the instant he saw it. He was trembling in her arms, clutching at her like a lifeline. "I keep fixing it," he admitted. "I hold out as long as I can stand it, then I fix it and let myself breathe for a minute. Then I move it again - but it gets harder every time, not easier."

"I have an idea," she said, and patted him on the back before unwinding from him and standing. "Stay there, and don't touch the picture. I'll be right back."

She ran up the stairs to her room, and dug quickly through her desk drawer. Kid insisted that even their rooms be perfectly symmetrical, which meant all of her personal items were tucked safely out of sight. The cool feel of a metal picture frame met her fingers, and she pulled it out with a triumphant noise.

"Here, this should help," she declared as she entered the living room again. Kid was on his feet but he looked sheepish, and on second glance she realized that although the painting was still skewed, it was hanging at a different angle.

Shaking her head, she placed the picture she carried on the mantle just below the big painting. It was a photo of the three of them in their 'pose', snapped by one of the others when they were practicing one day. For once they were all exactly in position, and though Liz personally thought they looked ridiculous, she knew Kid loved seeing it.

Turning around, she smiled at Kid. "Now every time you want to fix it, you'll be reminded why you're doing this in the first place," she said. "Think that'll help?"

He looked at the picture, then at the painting, then back at the picture again. Slowly he nodded. "Yes. I think it will," he said softly. He looked at her, then hesitantly smiled. "Thank you, Liz."

"Hey, what are partners for?" she asked, and his smile widened. "Now come on, the best thing you can do is probably to get out of here and distract yourself. Come with me back to the infirmary. Patti was wondering why you hadn't come to see her yet."

"What? Go _outside_?" His eyes widened, and he shivered. "But people will see me!"

"So?" She stared at him, puzzled all over again. "People see you all the time, Kid." He'd never suffered from social anxiety that she knew of.

"They'll know!" he insisted, somewhat hysterically. "They'll be able to tell, they'll know what a horrible person I am. I have something so awful in my home, it's... I can't go outside!"

She sighed, and reminded herself not to get irritated. He _was_ trying. "All right, all right, don't go. But if we're staying here, I'm going to bed. I was up all night."

That distracted him enough to break his incipient panic, and he looked at her with genuine fear in his eyes. "Is Patti going to be okay?" he asked, so quietly she almost couldn't hear him.

"They think so, yeah," Liz said, and his shoulders drooped with relief. "They said she'll be able to come home in a couple of days."

He looked at the picture and the skewed painting, and straightened his shoulders. "Then I'll just have to work hard to improve before that, so she'll know how much she means to me."

Liz had to smile at him again, her irritation once more forgotten. "She already does, Kid. And so do I. But it means a lot to us anyway."

* * *

Liz could tell Patti still wasn't feeling well, even though the doctors had cleared her to go home. Her little sister was quiet and subdued, speaking only when spoken to and sticking close to Liz's side. The absence of her usual childish giggle seemed to make the atmosphere heavy with silence even when they were talking.

Worse, Patti's feet were starting to drag as she tired, and they were still only about three quarters of the way home. Liz honestly wasn't sure she would make it. Stopping, she tugged Patti to a halt as well. Liz stepped in front of her sister and crouched, gesturing at her back. "Hop on."

"Really?" Patti's face lit up, and Liz finally got to hear the giggle she'd missed so much over the past few days. Patti scrambled onto Liz's back, and Liz carefully stood again. "Yay, piggy-back," Patti cheered. She wrapped her arms around Liz's neck and hugged her. "You're the bestest big sister ever!"

"No, the best sister ever would have thought to arrange for someone to carry you home," Liz said. "Or at least would have offered you a ride earlier."

"Nope. Bestest," Patti declared loyally. She seemed more animated for a few minutes, but then her head drooped onto Liz's shoulder and she yawned. "Sleepy," she said.

"Well, those painkillers are probably still in your system," Liz said. "Straight to bed for you when we get home."

"No, I wanna see the picture!" Patti exclaimed, sitting up again. "I still don't believe you."

Laughing, Liz gave in. When they finally reached Kid's house - _their_ house, though that thought still felt strange to Liz sometimes - she accordingly headed for the living room first.

"Kid? Hey, Kid! Look who's home," Liz called. There was no answer, and the living room was empty. "Huh, that's weird. He's been pacing around in here for days. Maybe he finally found something to distract him."

"Wow," Patti breathed out, staring at the tilted painting in wonder. Liz noted that the candles beneath it had also been permitted to burn down naturally, so they were now all different shapes and sizes.

"Hey, the photo's missing," she realized. "I guess he took it with him." Patti yawned again, so wide it was a wonder her jaw didn't crack, and Liz chuckled. "Okay, you've seen the picture. Bedtime for you, little sis."

"But I wanna see Kid," Patti said, her lips pursing in the beginning of a pout. "I haven't seen him for days and _days_."

"I'll send him to you as soon as I find him," Liz promised. Patti was still pouting, but thankfully she didn't start outright whining.

They found Kid much sooner than Liz had expected, however. He was sprawled out on Patti's bed, his position suggesting that he'd been sitting and then toppled over sideways when he fell asleep. For he _was_ asleep, though it looked like his dreams were anything but peaceful. His eyes flickered and he kept twitching, little whimpers escaping him occasionally. Clutched tightly to his chest with both hands was the picture of the three of them.

"Awww!" Patti's voice was hushed, but full of both awe and amusement. "Kid go seepies! Looks like he needs a nap, too."

Liz shook her head, exasperated, but when she caught a glimpse of herself in Patti's mirror she saw a tender little smile on her lips. "I guess you can sleep in my room instead," she said, starting to turn away.

To her surprise, Patti squirmed to be let down. "No! I wanna sleep next to Kid," she insisted. "He's having bad dreams."

Liz looked over her shoulder, uncertain. Patti's bed was fairly small, and her little sister was a restless sleeper. Besides, she was still injured. But then she remembered the way Patti had driven her crazy over the past few days, constantly asking about Kid and demanding to know when he was going to come visit her. She'd obviously missed him a great deal. Liz's smile widened as she carefully set her sister on her feet.

Patti limped over to the bed and slid in against the headboard. Gently she lifted Kid's head and arranged it so he was using her lap as a pillow. For a moment Liz thought Patti had managed to do it without waking him, but then Kid groaned and stirred.

His eyes opened, though they didn't look focused properly. Liz was standing beside the bed, so she was the one he saw first. "Liz?" he said hoarsely. He sounded groggy, like he still wasn't all there. "What happened... where's Patti?" His eyes widened in panic, and he struggled to sit up. "I thought she was supposed to come home today! Did something happen, is she okay? Di-mmph!"

Patti lifted her hand from his mouth after just long enough to stem the flow of words, and giggled. "I'm right here, silly."

"Huh? But... what...?" He blinked at her, then appeared to realize that he was lying half sprawled over her lap. Liz was amused to see him blush bright red. He tried to sit up further, but swayed and collapsed again instead.

"When was the last time you slept?" Liz asked in concern, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting a hand against his forehead. He wasn't feverish, though he certainly looked like he might be sick.

"I don't know... what day is it?" he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. "Before we went on that mission."

"You haven't slept in _three days_?" Liz exclaimed, astonished. She'd known he wasn't handling the stress very well, but she hadn't realized he was _this_ badly off.

"I can't sleep," he said, haunted. "Every time I close my eyes, I'm _sure_ that when I open them again _everything_ will be wrong, and then I have to run downstairs to check, only that means I'm looking at the painting and if I look at it I _have_ to fix it, and..."

With another little giggle Patti clamped her hand down over his mouth again. "Kid's babbling," she announced with glee. "He's funny when he's sleepy!"

His expression was sheepish as he pushed her hand away. "I haven't fixed it in hours," he said proudly. A moment later he sagged again and added miserably, "But I still can't stop thinking about it, and I can't bear to leave the house with it like that. It's _hopeless_. I'll never be able to do this!" He looked up at them with tears in his golden eyes. "I'm _sorry_ , I _swear_ you're more important to me than symmetry! I'm just such a useless, despicable..."

This time they _both_ stopped him, Liz putting her hand over Patti's so he wouldn't easily be able to shake loose again. "You don't have to do it all at once, Kid!" she told him. "You didn't get this bad overnight, and you're not going to fix it that fast, either. It's okay."

He looked back at them, despondent. Patti giggled again and leaned over to kiss him firmly on the cheek before tugging her hand out from under Liz's so she could throw her arms around him. "Thank you for trying so hard," she said happily. "I love you, too!"

"We both do," Liz said, smiling as he blushed again. "Even if you do drive us nuts sometimes."

"I... I just don't know what else to do to try to fix myself," Kid confessed, looking at them helplessly. "Will you... help me? Please?" he finished in a whisper.

"Silly!" Patti exclaimed, and hugged him tighter.

"All you ever had to do was ask," Liz told him, and ruffled his hair just because she could. It was already mussed, so for once he couldn't accuse her of ruining his symmetry.

Patti yawned again, her eyes drooping. Kid looked startled, then dismayed. "I'm sorry, you should be resting," he said. He pulled free of them and tried to slide off the bed, but they both grabbed at him.

"You're not going anywhere," Liz said. "You need sleep as bad as she does, and frankly I'm not sure you can stand on your own. I'm certainly not going to carry you."

"Stay _here_ ," Patti demanded, another pout threatening.

"But I told you, I _can't_ sleep," Kid protested. "Not really. I'll only keep you awake..."

"I _missed_ you," Patti insisted.

There wasn't really much Kid could say to argue with that, Liz reflected. Thankfully he was smart enough not to try, or Patti might just have thrown a full-scale tantrum. Hesitantly he settled back down, laying his head on Patti's lap only when she pushed on his shoulder to put him there. Liz moved to prop the pillows behind Patti, making sure she'd be comfortable even sitting up.

Despite his protests, it was obvious that Kid was fighting sleep and losing. He kept blinking repeatedly and rubbing his eyes, and Liz saw his jaw clench once as he hid a yawn. He seemed determined to remain awake, and looked almost frightened by the idea of sleeping. How bad could nightmares about crooked pictures really be?

Liz looked at Kid again - the dark circles under his eyes, the smudges on his face where tears had dried - and concluded that for some people they were bad enough. He was trying hard, that was the important thing.

To her surprise, Patti started singing softly, paraphrasing an old lullaby their mother had once sung to them. "Hush, shinigami, don't say a word, Patti's gonna buy you a mocking bird..."

Kid's eyes went wide, and he craned his neck to stare up at her as if he'd never heard a lullaby before. Well, maybe he hadn't. They still knew absolutely nothing about his family history. They didn't even know for certain that he'd _had_ a mother. He wasn't human, after all, though it was easy to forget that sometimes.

The song brought back poignant memories of their own mother, singing to them when one of them had a nightmare. Liz remembered drifting off to sleep with her mother's sweet voice in her ears, cuddled close to Patti and feeling safe and secure and _loved_. They were some of the best memories she had, and it saddened her to think that Kid had never known anything like it.

Impulsively she joined in on the next verse, and Kid transferred his astonished gaze to her. She smiled at him, and stroked his hair gently as she recalled her mother doing. Slowly, despite his best efforts, his eyes drifted closed. By the end of the song he was sound asleep, and this time he showed no signs of being haunted by nightmares. On the contrary, a tiny smile hovered on his lips, and he looked unusually sweet.

Unfortunately, as Liz discovered when she tried to move, he wasn't the only one who had fallen asleep. Liz had been singing the last few verses by herself without noticing it - Patti had drifted off, and was cuddled against Liz's side with her head on the older girl's shoulder. That left Liz effectively trapped, unless she wanted to wake them both again. Sighing, she gave in to the inevitable and leaned her head back against the pillows, closing her eyes.

There were worse ways she could think of to spend the day than napping with her two most important people.


End file.
